No part of this story may be reproduced in any
form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and
retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter Fourteen: Ensnared

The large warehouse loomed over them like an ancient beast
standing against the ocean wind. The rolling doors were unhinged from their
rollers leaving a narrow gap for Arius and Brockumus to squeeze through, but
they knew not what waited upon the other side.

The interior of the warehouse was lofty. A second floor
awaited several yards farther where two sets of stairs led to an upper
mezzanine before several door led to other areas. Below, more doors awaited
opening which left much ground to be covered. An old truck sat in the middle of
the first room which Brockumus headed for. Finding the input for the fuel, he
opened the cap and sniffed only to distort his face in disgust. The gas was
rotten.

“Perhaps we can find better fuel elsewhere,” he said.

“I’ll take the top, you the bottom,” Arius suggested, with a
wary gaze to the upper mezzanine.

He didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but they had to
find fuel if they were to get off the island. They had contacted Dueson and
Ruekrow through the wheel, and they were supposed to be on their way to the
warehouse. Arius just didn’t want to be caught alone with them.

“I suppose so,” replied Brockumus. “But be careful.”

Arius nodded, and soon he made his way up the stairs. Old
furniture and papers littered the upper mezzanine, and he found the next door
hard to open. It budged with some force, and he made his way down the next
hall. Windows took in the distant moonlight casting the long hall into a surreal
sight.

Clearing several small rooms and closets, Arius found
himself in another large room with workbenches and walls full of tools. Several
doors led in and out of the room; several of them were open giving him a peep
into the rest of the massive warehouse. A chill traversed his spine as he
nearly expected something awful to come out of those dark rooms and halls.

To his right he caught sight of a red container with a
spout. Moving toward it he examined the inner contents and found what he
thought to be fuel. Sniffing it, he found it tolerable.

Something shuddered behind him, causing him to spin around
with his rifle. The sights landed upon Ruekrow who had seemingly been trying to
sneak up on him.

“You going to kill me too now,” Ruekrow said, with intimidation.

Arius lowered his rifle and replied, “I don’t kill my
allies.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard. I hear you’ve had some
questionable events in your life.”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but you don’t know me or my
past.”

“I know you’ve managed to make some powerful people back
home angry. Should we talk about that?”

A shot fired from
somewhere below, and its vibrations shuddered throughout the warehouse.

“Brockumus,” Arius said with worry.

The two of them hurried to investigate, Arius grabbing the
fuel container on his way out of the room. Through several halls they came to a
staircase which creaked on their way down. The place seemed to grow darker as
they came to the first floor, and soon they were surveying the floor.

They came to a large room where ancient looking machinery
collected dust in every corner. Pillars supported the vast ceiling overhead,
and the place was like a cluttered maze. Weaving around the junk Arius spotted
Brockumus against a far pillar with what appeared to be a wounded arm. Blood
ran down the sleeve.

“What happened?” Arius asked, moving to assist him.

“It’s Dueson,” he warned, before spotting Ruekrow. “Look
out!”

Arius felt the coming impact moving through the air, but was
too slow to turn around. The butt of Ruekrow’s rifle hit him square between the
shoulders, knocking him to the ground where he dropped the container. A scuffle
broke out behind him, as Brockumus tried to fight.

Arius jumped to his feet with his rifle and spun around only
to find Brockumus under Ruekrow’s hold. A pistol was to his head, and Ruekrow
dared him to make a move.

No part of this story may be reproduced in any
form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and
retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter Thirteen: A Way Out

The town sat silently upon the shore of the island, where
the ocean whispered the sound of its steady waves from the darkness that
concealed it. There were no lights in that place as the place was dead. Only
toward the center of town could light be seen, for the leather soldiers had
decided to make camp there as long as they were upon the island. Arius was
dismayed about the amount of hostiles that had moved to the island.

The raping of a hanging sign against a chain-link fence
sounded to their right due to the wind. Arius imagined a dark creature to leap
out from the darkness as soon as they passed by the ally, but all remained
still. Brockumus was ahead of him, and surveyed the area for their destination.
The beach was just around the corner, for he could see a sudden blackness in
the distance. Docks were consumed into the abyss.

Around the building, they made way toward an old boat house
sitting off of the water. Jayvolni was supposed to be inside as they had
communicated through the wheel upon arrival to town. This would be tense, for
he would have to work with those who thought him a traitor.

The door to the boat house creaked open, and Brockumus led
the way in, glancing to the left and the right. A boat sat in the middle of the
room where ocean water calmly swept back and forth bobbing the boat up and
down. A large door sat in front of the boat closing it off to the vaster ocean
beyond. At first the place seemed empty,
but then Arius felt someone lurking in the far shadows across the room.

“Were you followed here?” Jayvolni asked, uncloaking himself
from the shadows.

“No,” replied Brockumus. “Where are Dueson and Ruekrow?”

“Gathering essential supplies. We can leave as soon as we
have them.”

“So the boat is good to go?”

“I patched it up, but it needs fuel. Hopefully the brothers
will be able to locate some.”

Brockumus had contacted Rie shortly before arriving to town
in order to persuade them to meet at the docks. The two mercenaries were
reluctant to cooperate however as they had decided to take matters into their
own hands. Apparently their ship’s beacon had been washed ashore, but the
leather clad soldiers had seized it before they could. Rie and Grem planned to
steal it back, but that meant waiting upon the island even longer.

“I heard over the wheel,” said Jayvolni. “They think they
can retrieve the beacon.”

“It’s dangerous, but without it I’m afraid we would be
stranded here forever.”

“I must say, I doubted the reality of finding it,” said
Jayvolni. “But even so, we can’t stay here for long. If they don’t make it back
by morning, then I’m afraid we have no choice but to leave.”

“That’s a lot of ground for them to cover,” said Arius. “Is
there any way we can pick them up.”

“I have a feeling that as soon as we get into the ocean,
we’ll want to get as far away from here as possible. I don’t want to leave
anyone behind, but the two decided to go on their own, and thus far don’t seem
in want of aid.”

“To be fair,” began Brockumus. “It was you that first broke
up the group.”

“We needed a way off of this island before things got too
dangerous, and now look at where you are.”

“I suppose they will be saying the same if they get back
with the beacon.”

“If,” emphasized Jayvolni.

Brockumus let out a deep sigh before asking, “what can we do
to help?”

Jayvolni turned his eyes down as if perplexed by the
question, but staring them back in the eyes he replied, “Find out where Dueson
and Ruekrow are at, and help them bring back supplies. What we need more than
anything is fuel, so that is the real chore.”

“Sounds good,” Brockumus glanced toward Arius.

The two left the boat house where Arius moved
his gaze to the distant moon which now glistened over the ocean waters. Before
the clouds had masked its glow, but now it was left bare. Arius gripped his
rifle, and wondered how much they would sacrifice just to save their own lives.
Would they leave some behind, or would they pull through as a team? These were
mercenary men however, and they knew little about teams. Be sure to check out my book, Ground of Oam, here.

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any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter Twelve: Pressing On

Dust billowed in the air, and tree limbs cracked from their
trunks before crashing to the ground. The treetops whirled overhead as the
rotors of a flying machine beat the air with fury. Heated shells fell from the
machine’s guns which unloaded its chambers into the trees.

Arius hunkered beneath a rocky overhang where he hoped the
machine wouldn’t be able to see him. The group had been scattered in the night
due to the air ambush. The leather clad soldiers must have been using infrared
vision technology. Otherwise, Arius knew not how they tracked them in the dark,
but if this were the case, then they would stand out like flares under the
forest canopy.

Arius could feel the vibrations from the machine, and the
flurry of leaves beneath it. The guns stopped their thundering, and soon the
machine moved on. The dust settled, and Arius didn’t know where the others
were, but he feared to move from hiding. Exposing himself could attract
anything from the air, but he knew there were foot soldiers in the area. He had
seen them, and even now could feel them among the surrounding trees.

Moving forward he risked it. All he had was the assault
rifle he stole from the soldier in the building earlier that day. It fell cool
against his clammy palms, and he swept it back and forth against the trees
ahead.

His eyes were attuned to the dark, but he wondered if the
darkness would conceal him from the ground troops. If they too had infrared,
then his camouflage was useless. He had to find safety, but where upon the
island could he go?

He felt a soldier a few yards to his right. Taking cover
behind a wide oak, Arius prepared to attack if needed, but he could identify
three soldiers together. He would have to attack with cunning.

“They could be anywhere,” one of them said, in a rough
voice. “Stick close and we’ll fare the better.”

“They can’t hide forever,” another one said, while sweeping
the perimeter with its rifle. “They have no place to run, and the commander is
certain that we will scour this island until they turn up. He thinks they’re
from the outside world, perhaps spies.”

“They’re not from the outside,” the first one nearly barked.
“These things came out of the shadows like ghost. Whatever they are, they’re
not human.”

“Then what?” asked the third.

“I don’t know, but they ghosted me before I had a chance to
fight back,” the first one replied before letting out a curse. “I’ve died
enough this month, and I’m not going to die again. Next time, I’ll be ready.”

Arius felt a chill down his spine. Were these soldier immune
to death, only to rise again after death? It would explain their hideous
appearance if it was due to death time and time again. These were soldiers who
saw the horrors of battle unto death several times over. Their scars would bear
testimony of the fact.

The three moved on, and Arius stepped past the tree. He
could see their back’s glistening in the soft moonlight which his eyes could
pick up. Surgery had changed his eyes to mimic those of the planets residence,
but in the dark they reverted back to their original light sensitive state.

A tremor brought him to spin to his right where he spotted a
leather soldier twenty feet off. Its infrared scope glistened under the
moonlight, and its rifle aimed for him. Arius sprayed the surrounding trees
with the pull of a trigger while return fire pelted the tree behind him. The
soldier sought cover, but took several hits to the chest before tumbling back.

Spinning back around, Arius knew that the other three would
return, and thus they were through the bushes. Spraying the area with his
rifle, Arius moved for cover back behind the tree as return fire shattered the
other side. He knew more would be closing in, and he had to get out before they
surrounded him.

Another rifle thundered several yards up the hill from the
three soldiers, and Arius identified a fourth figure. The three soldiers took
cover as one of them fell wounded. It was an ally, and Arius stepped around the
oak, thundering the remainder of his clip toward the enemy. They scattered
further, one taking a mortal wound to the head, and the second finding himself
pinned behind a tree.

Arius sought cover behind another tree to reload while the
soldier fired toward the other figure. With a click Arius hurried forward to
press the soldier back. The fourth figure descended the hill and planted a
knife into the wounded soldier, before Arius finished off the final one.

More were coming as he could feel them bearing toward them.
The fourth figure made for Arius, before grabbing him by the arm. It was
Brockumus.

“We must head for the harbor,” he said.

“What of the others?”

“They will take care of themselves. We must find safety and
regroup later.”

The night pressed on as did they, but Arius felt
the makings of a trap. Thanks for stopping by and be sure to check out my book, Ground of Oam, here. It can also be found in paperback on amazon.com

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any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter Eleven: Stories Told of History's Day

Night had encroached upon them, and the five found
themselves a few meters from the Gray Tower. A starry sky seemed to move above
the trees as the planet continued its rotation, and the moon had for a short
time been up. No fire stirred before them, as they wished to avoid attention.
Thus they ignored the cold which impinged their bodies.

Naturally the tower would have provided ideal shelter for
the five, but it would have left them cornered if the enemy were to come upon
them. Therefor Thorim thought it wise to keep a distance, though no one felt
comfortable by it. There was a killer among them, and Arius knew that the
others distrusted him. Even Thorim who was reluctant to accuse him, remained
suspicious. Arius could tell by the way he behaved. Wary glances, and
uncomfortable silence were a giveaway.

Gruegon and Brockumus kept watch for the night, though no
one slumbered. Camus was the fifth mercenary among them, and even more than
Arius, was probably the quieter of the bunch. He had over the trip developed a
bond with Gruegon just as Rie with Grem, and Jayvolni with Dueson and Ruekrow.
Arius supposed that Brockumus was his new friend during the trip which left
Thorim as the loner. He didn’t seem to have any one friend among the
mercenaries, but acted as their leader alone. Arius could only wonder what
their commander was thinking.

A sharp clicking sounded in the camp, and they all reached
for their wheel. A palm sized device that clicked off an encrypted message. The
shape of it was a wheel, and engraved symbols ran around the rim. The top part
of the wheel turned to press upon the bottom part, and a message was dialed
from Jayvolni. It was their method of communications, as they had no radio or
com. The wheel operated by a type of magnetism which only the corresponding
devices were linked to, thus they were able to communicate no matter what their
distance from each other.

“He has found a boat by the docks,” Thorim spoke aloud. “but
it’s condition is in need of repair.”

“If he succeeds in repairing it,” said Camus. “Will we leave
with him?”

“Our priority is the mission, but he is right to say that
staying is dangerous,” replied Thorim. “We will go if we must.”

Another message clicked through the wheels, and Arius noted
it as from Grem. The two had nearly made it back to the crash site, but there
were many leathered savages there. It would be dangerous, but they dared to
proceed in hopes of finding the ships transmitter.

Thorim replied with a warning, but they refused to take heed
from their old commander. They were on their own now, and only communicated to
remain informed. All became silent as soon as communication was over.

The insects upon the world had taken to their chirping for
the night, and now Arius’ mind began to wonder. He thought of his future wife,
and despaired for the great distance between them. Could he ever get back to
her, or was his destiny there among men who did not trust him. Was all this
really a ploy of his future father in law of riding him forever? Heat flashed
through his body as he looked back upon his gullibility. Yawen Waid, the father
of his future wife, had tricked him. Arius had trusted the man, and at one time
considered him as a father he never had, but now he realized the usury.

Arius’ thoughts soon turned to the mission which Thorim
thought so highly of. It was true, they were there to make history, but perhaps
it was their demise they would find instead. They were hunting a man of legend,
long thought dead. What would his business be there, and what was he planning?

Arius recalled the stories taught to him as a child. A
plague that devoured worlds, turning brother against brother, son against
father. The great Plaigeanic Wars led by the Lord of Plagues, as the adversary
called himself. Worlds were in peril
against his corrupting hand, and plague like armies, but a deliverer came to
free them from the Lord of Plagues. Archaies was his name, and by his hand the
adversary was put to death, the plague done away, and peace restored. Now here
they were several hundred years later, hunting the man they once adored. The
man Archaies, the one they once called deliverer.

Thanks for stopping by, and sorry for the late post. Be sure to check out my book, Ground of Oam which is available for both Kindle and Paperback on amazon.

No part of this story may be reproduced in any form or by
any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter Ten: Five for Now

The room seemed to go dead as an uncertain silence overtook
it. No one reached for their guns, though Arius could see how they prepared
themselves just in case. Verbal accusations held back, at least for now, but
the mercenary’s eyes did enough of the talking.

“No one’s accusing you,” said Brockumus, who glanced around
the room full of mercenaries.

“You speak alone,” replied Rie. “This looks suspicious
enough.”

“Do you think I would leave my dagger behind for all to
see?” Arius shot back, with more anger than intended. “I didn’t do this.”

“Wel,l someone did,” replied Rie, unappreciative of his
tone.

“We know the ship was sabotaged,” added Grem. “And someone
in this room is responsible for that, and whoever it is, is likely responsible
for this too.”

“Let’s not rush to conclusions,” began Brockumus, but
Ruekrow cut him off.

“The conclusion is obvious. We have our daggers, and I have
heard the rumors. Arius’ allegiance is questionable.”

“Rumors that I am sure you started!” Brockumus barked.

“Silence!” came Thorim’s voice with a boom. The room grew
dull once again.

“We must think this through,” he continued. “When could this
have happened? We have been together since the crash.”

“I wouldn’t be sure of it,” Dueson replied. “The night of
the crash when we sought shelter under the rock. Someone could have sneaked off
then, only to return unnoticed.”

“But we had two at watch every few hours,” said Brockumus.

“It was dark,” said Dueson. “Anyone of us could have sneaked
off, and besides that, the dagger is ours. It couldn’t have been here before
the crash which means it has to be one of us.”

“Then someone is setting me up,” said Arius.

“We don’t need to hear it,” hissed Grem. “The evidence is
clear if only we look at it plainly. What are we going to do about it,
commander?”

Thorim hesitated a response.

“Setting Arius up would be easy to do,” Brockumus said,
taking advantage of the pause.

“Are you volunteering?” asked Ruekrow.

Dueson grabbed his younger brother by the arm as if to ease
his accusations. Jayvolni only observed in the background.

“Sir.” Arius had a dry mouth.

He could only plea for his innocence. Anger began to rage as
he pondered his framer for he knew someone there was setting him up. Brockumus
had warned him to be careful, but the conspiracy against him was already set in
motion.

“Quiet,” Thorim nearly hissed. “There are too many
possibilities. I can’t accuse you of anything, but the evidence before us is
plain. Perhaps too plain.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Grem said with disbelief. “Too plain?”

“This could be a set up!”

“Or carelessness upon the culprits part!” Grem barked at his
commander. “How can you dismiss the obvious? Do you wish to see us all dead?”

“No!” Thorim rebutted. “But we need further investigation.”

“We don’t have time,” Jayvolni finally spoke. His calm but
stern voice effortlessly broke the heated commotion. “This island will soon be
swarming with hostiles. We need an exit strategy if we wish to live.”

“No,” said Thorim. “We need to investigate. Otherwise this
mission is over.”

“This mission is already over,” replied Jayvolni. “Now it’s
only a matter of survival, and the best way to do that is to get off this
island.”

“We can’t,” replied Rie. “Our ship dropped a beacon before
it crashed. If we leave this island then we’ll have no chance of getting home.
We should find the beacon first. Perhaps it’s washed ashore by now.”

“I bid you well with that,” said Jayvolni. “I’m heading to
town, and if anyone wants to come along, follow me.”

Jayvolni glanced toward Dueson and Ruekrow as if to give a
special invitation before turning to leave the room.

“Jayvolni,” Thorim said. “You can’t do this.”

“I’m am, sir,” he replied. “And I suggest you figure your
end out before you follow. There’s a traitor among us, and we can’t act like it’s
not obvious. I’ll keep in touch through the wheel.”

Jayvolni cast a glance toward Arius before he left the room.
Ruekrow and Dueson hesitantly followed, leaving the rest to make up their own
minds.

“We can’t leave without the beacon,” Rie said. “I’m heading
back to the crash. Anyone who wants to go home come with me, except you.”

Rie pointed his finger toward Arius with eyes that
threatened harm if he were to follow. Grem went along with his friend leaving
the last four of the group. Arius questioned his next move and wondered what
Thorim would have done to him. Surely Brockumus would come to his aid.

“And just like that the group is no more,” Thorim said,
under his breath. “That’s what I get for working with brutes.”

Looking to the other two mercenaries he asked, “What of you?
Do you wish to desert your commander as well?”

“No sir,” one of them replied, Gruegon was his name. “We are
vulnerable if we split up.”

“Then it’s us five for now,” Thorim said. “And we stay for
the mission, if you are capable of it.”

About Me

My full name is Paul Andrew Lackey, but most people call me Andrew. Born into a family of five (three siblings), I have grown up in the ministry. My vision is for the church as I wish to see true reformation back to God's word, and I am continually excited to see how God is moving in the world abroad.

I love to write and teach, and I have recently published a science fiction fantasy book that is a part of a greater series my brother and I have been working on over the years. Inspired by the adventures we had as children, Oam's Cry is a series spanning hundreds of years. Adventuring across strange worlds, mysterious islands, and haunted lands to outer space, and lost space stations, Oam's Cry has many worlds and mysteries to explore.

About this blog

My main purpose for starting this blog is as an advertisement front for my book series Oam's Cry. I also mean to meet fellow authors and writers along the way. I will try and post something frequently and look forward to seeing you around.